


The Rewards of Being Loved

by feather_aesthetic



Category: The Haunting of Hill House (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, Post-Season Finale, Sisters bonding, Tickle Fights, Tickling, tickle, ticklish!Shirley, ticklish!Theo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22541989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feather_aesthetic/pseuds/feather_aesthetic
Summary: “So if you touched me right now, you would feel what I’m feeling?”  Theo nods, a slow incline of her chin. “Do you… want to?” Shirley asks hesitantly.  Theo shrugs.“Sometimes,” she responds, deliberately misinterpreting the question.  She sighs when Shirley fixes her with a look, one that lets her know her older sister sees right through her.“Why?” Theo asks, years of secrecy making her blunt.  Now it’s Shirley’s turn to shrug, albeit more cautiously than her sister had.“I don’t know, you just talk about it like you only ever feel bad things.  Don’t you want to feel good things sometimes?”“Of course I do, I just—I never know what I’m going to feel until I’m touching someone, and then it’s too late.”  Shirley flicks her eyes away, her equivalent of biting her lip nervously, then offers,“I’m feeling good things right now.”
Relationships: Shirley Crain & Theodora "Theo" Crain
Comments: 3
Kudos: 60





	The Rewards of Being Loved

**Author's Note:**

> The quote in this piece is from Tim Kreider's New York Times article entitled "I Know What You Think of Me" published June 15th, 2013.

Night has fallen on the Crain-Harris household, and the oft-lively home is still, and mostly quiet. In the living room, two figures sit side-by-side on the couch, a cheesy Netflix rom-com playing on the television. Theo Crain curls her legs underneath her, internally rolling her eyes at Shirley’s choice of movie. Even though she doesn’t live right next door in Shirley’s guest house anymore, she still visits at least once a week, often bringing Trish along with her for dinner. 

This week, though, with Kevin chaperoning Jayden’s Boy Scout camping trip and Allie at a sleepover for the evening, Trish invented a work function to attend, not-so-gently encouraging Theo to spend some quality time with her sister. And it’s not like she minds hanging out with her sister, in fact a growing part of her is so, so excited, but this movie is just… awful. Theo sighs again as the female lead complains to her friend group about her love life. She’s trying to contain her boredom, but she must not be subtle enough because Shirley shifts beside her, taking in a deep breath.

“Theo?”

“Sorry,” Theo sighs. “This just really isn’t my thing.”

“What? No, this movie is terrible,” Shirley hastens to reassure her. “That’s not what I…” Theo turns to her. It’s not like Shirley to avoid speaking her mind, so whatever she’s thinking about, it must be pretty important.

“What’s wrong?” Shirley’s eyes flicker around the room for a moment before settling on Theo, meeting her steady gaze. She laughs, then, breaking the eye contact.

“I can’t talk to you when you’re making your therapist face.” Theo cracks a grin, huffing out a relieved laugh, and the suddenly somber atmosphere is broken. Theo scrubs at her face, trying to wipe away the so-called ‘therapist expression’ and rearrange her features into something more sisterly, less professional.

“Sorry, sorry. What’s up, Shirl?” Her sister looks at her for a moment, fond smile playing on her lips, and Theo tries not to bask in it too much. 

“Can you tell me about your... abilities?” Her gloveless hands feel suddenly bare. Theo instinctively stiffens, clamming up despite her best efforts to relax, and she can see Shirley cringe slightly. To her credit, though, she pushes on, trying to explain.

“I tried so hard, for so long, to pretend that we were normal, and—I want to understand you, Theo.” Theo pauses, processing for such a long moment that Shirley almost dismisses the entire idea. The movie goes on quietly in the background, providing a muted white noise to their conversation. 

“What do you want to know?” Her voice is low and quiet, so much softer than the usual commanding tone or calm therapist voice she uses. Of all her siblings, Shirley was always the most resistant to Theo’s unique abilities. Theo explained it away as disbelief, or maybe even a fear of having her innermost thoughts broadcast over the surface of Theo’s skin. To have her openly talk about it means more to Theo than her sister will ever know. 

“What happens when you touch something?” Alright, so they’re starting from the basics.

“When I touch an object,” Theo begins, twisting her fingers together, “I experience the memories and emotions attached to that object. The stronger the emotion, the easier it is for me to see the memory.” Her face darkens as she recalls the couch in that foster family’s basement, the terror and revulsion that overcame her as she stared up at the wooden ceiling. 

“And when you touch another person?” 

“I can feel their emotions, see things about them, things that they might want to keep hidden. I can tell if they’re lying.” An image of Luke, his young eyes filled with trust, gazing dejectedly up at her while he described his experience in the basement of Hill House, flashes through her mind. Nell, and that terrible nothingness that had infected her like a plague.

“So if you touched me right now, you would feel what I’m feeling?” Theo nods, a slow incline of her chin. “Do you… want to?” Shirley asks hesitantly. Theo shrugs. 

“Sometimes,” she responds, deliberately misinterpreting the question. She sighs when Shirley fixes her with a  _ look _ , one that lets her know her older sister sees right through her.

“Why?” Theo asks, years of secrecy making her blunt. Now it’s Shirley’s turn to shrug, albeit more cautiously than her sister had. 

“I don’t know, you just talk about it like you only ever feel bad things. Don’t you want to feel good things sometimes?” 

“Of course I do, I just—I never know what I’m going to feel until I’m touching someone, and then it’s too late.” Shirley flicks her eyes away, her equivalent of biting her lip nervously, then offers, 

“I’m feeling good things right now.” Theo looks down at her recently ungloved hands, considering. It’s not just an offering for Theo’s sake, but a genuine ceding of ground on Shirley’s part as well. There’s a quote Theo has read in an article somewhere; “If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.” In Theo’s case, her knowledge of whoever she touches is total, and she understands how terrifying that notion can be. For her sister to offer this is a huge show of trust. Shirley still isn’t looking at her, but she brings her head up sharply when she feels Theo hesitantly brush fingertips over her palm. Theo gasps at the sudden bursts of love, of pride, of  _ joy _ that wash over her, filling up her chest with a welling sort of light and tingling down the backs of her forearms. Their gazes were locked, but Theo can’t experience her sister’s overwhelming love for her while looking into her eyes, so she drops her vision to their touching hands. They’re side-by-side on the couch, facing each other, and Shirley’s gaze is still locked on her face, studying her expressions.

“You feel happiness in your arms,” Theo murmurs, and Shirley’s face lights up with delight even as her cheeks tinge pink from the observation. 

“You feel the way  _ I _ experience emotions?” Theo grins at the revelation that’s just dawning on Shirley, and because she can’t contain two people’s happiness coursing through her behind a stony expression any longer. Her knuckles are resting in Shirley’s palm now, and she slowly lifts her hand to let the contact fall away. 

“Mom said I was sensitive,” she offers as a response. There’s a moment where Theo’s afraid she might have ruined the moment by bringing up their mother, but then Shirley grins a little mischievously.

“Well I know you’re  _ sensitive _ , Theo,” she teases, elbowing her gently. Theo relaxes into her role as a sibling, rolling her eyes and shoving Shirley in retaliation.

“Shut up, Shirl.” But the amused look hasn’t left Shirley’s eyes, and Theo recoils slightly at a nudge to her side.

“You know, you really should be nicer to your older sister, Theo.” Theo squirms at the continued jostling, trying to ignore the fingers that have drifted sneakily over to her sides and are prodding at the flesh there. 

“Shir _ ley _ ,” she whines, hoping that it will be enough to deter her sister. Shirley grins wider, poking in between her ribs in places she  _ knows _ Theo can’t stand. Theo’s been making a valiant effort of staring at the ceiling with her lips tightly sealed, hoping that her sister will get bored and abandon the game before it’s begun, but at this new attack she’s unable to remain still, and her hands shoot up to catch Shirley’s wrists just as the first burst of true laughter escapes her. 

“Don’t,” she pleads, but it’s more breathless and giggly than serious, and they both know that if she really meant it Theo would be halfway across the room by now. Shirley takes this as an invitation, and when her grip shifts and skin brushes skin, Theo gets the barest glimpse of her plans just before she’s bowled over by one Shirley Crain-Harris. Quick fingers bypass her makeshift defenses like she’d never thrown up her arms at all, gently pinching at sides and ribs in a way that Shirley knows drives Theo crazy. 

It’s been decades since Shirley has done this, but she still remembers all her sister’s ticklish spots from when they used to play together. The spots on her sides that make her bubbly laughter morph into more of a cackle, the way she squirms harder when Shirley pinches at her hipbones, the redness in her cheeks and the push of her heels into the couch when fingers manage to sneak under her arms; they’re still familiar reactions, but Shirley confirms each one with a widening smirk, reveling in her rediscovered power. 

Theo, for her part, is in hysterics, bubbly giggles jumping or turning into squeaks when Shirley switches spots. 

“Shirl!” she gasps between bouts of laughter, not ready to beg her to stop but unwilling to just lay there and take it. It’s been ages since she’s been tickled, especially by her sister, and she’s almost forgotten how simultaneously fun and maddening it can be. It makes her want to jump out of her skin in the best way possible. 

“What is it, Theo?” Shirley asks, as though they’re having a normal conversation and she isn’t tickling her sister half to death. Whatever response Theo was formulating is cut off by her squeal when Shirley unexpectedly finds a weak spot at the base of her ribs. Shirley laughs at the reaction, squeezing sporadically and milking the spot for all it’s worth. 

“Well, that’s new,” she teases, lobster-clawing her way up Theo’s ribs before sneaking back down to attack the recently discovered tickle spot. Theo squeals again, throwing her head back and squeezing her eyes shut at the sensation. She didn’t even  _ know _ she was that ticklish before now, and the feeling is quickly becoming too much for her to handle. 

“Shit, Shihihihirl!” she half-shrieks, thrashing. She’s lost all hope of dignity, and can now only hope that her sister will have mercy. Fortunately for her, Shirley seems to understand that she’s just about reached her limit, and retreats to the other end of the couch, bearing a sly grin that only a sound victory can bring. Shirley leans back against the arm of the couch, stretching her legs across the piece of furniture towards her sister and listening as Theo gasps for breath and tries to pull herself together. 

“Been a while since we’ve done that, huh?” Shirley murmurs, smile still tugging at her lips. Theo sits up slowly, pink-faced and giggling while she recovers from the playful torment. 

“Yeah,” she agrees, a certain lightness in her tone that Shirley hasn’t heard since their childhood. “You know what we haven’t done in even longer?” She’s crawling up the couch menacingly now, biting her lip to contain the brilliant smile threatening to break through. Shirley has a feeling she knows exactly where this is going, but she allows herself to sink further into the cushions, tamping down on a grin of her own.

“What’s that?” Theo is looming over her, fingers poised to strike, and Shirley shrinks back but doesn’t move to stop her. If she plays it cool, doesn’t provoke her sister by trying to run away or fend her off (turning it into a competition will only make it worse for Shirley when Theo finally manages to pin her down) then maybe she’ll go easy on her. Her ploy fails, however, when Theo raises an eyebrow at her, tells her she knows exactly what Shirley’s trying to do, and pounces. 

“No!” Shirley squeals when Theo goes straight for some of her worst spots, spidering quick fingers across her stomach and fluttering gently around her neck. She scrunches up as best she can, writhing between her sister and the back of the couch. Unlike Theo, Shirley’s squirming is actually productive, and she actively tries to escape, so Theo has a much harder time getting her to keep still long enough to tickle with any intensity. Even without much tickling, though, Shirley’s a mess—arching her back and squealing whenever the lightest touches connect with her skin, even through her clothes. Theo might not fight back, but Shirley is way more ticklish than she ever was. 

She looks up to find Theo grinning at her, and though she can’t feel emotions like Theo can, the love shining through her sister’s eyes and through her smile is clear. She reaches out, crippled by the fits of uncontrollable giggles Theo’s fingers are causing, to launch a counterattack, searching out Theo’s sides and digging in until the other woman backs off, unable to concentrate enough to continue her assault. Before Shirley can get herself together, though, she feels an elbow lock around her ankles, and then nails are scraping their way up her bare feet. She  _ shrieks _ , arching her back and kicking her legs in Theo’s grasp. Theo tightens her hold in response, grin so wide her cheeks ache, and scribbles fingers all over her soles. Shirley loses it, dissolving into hearty, unrestrained laughter punctuated with little squeals when fingers dip dangerously close to the inside of her arches or underneath her toes. 

“Theo! Theohoho—nohohohoho!” The pleas are barely intelligible through her laughter, but the torment ends quickly when Theo’s fingers start touching the skin of her feet and suddenly Theo is kicking out at nothing, overcome with the same breathless laughter pinning Shirley to the couch. Theo lets go of her ankles in an effort to escape the contact at the same time Shirley realises what’s happened. Shirley’s hoarse laughter turns genuine at Theo’s predicament, while Theo retires to her end of the couch to mock-sulk. 

“That’s so unfair,” she grumbles, expression forming the beginnings of a pout. Shirley offers her a self-satisfied smile, stretching her back against the arm of the couch.

“For you, maybe.” Theo’s displeased expression only deepens. She leans forward, and for a moment Shirley thinks she’s going to try for a rematch and tenses up, but Theo just drapes herself across Shirley’s thighs, head resting on her stomach. One of Shirley’s hands goes automatically to the top of her sister’s head, beginning to smooth out the ruffled curls with slow, soothing strokes. Theo hasn’t been so tactile with her in decades, and she’s loathe to overstep… but her hair is still just as soft as when they were kids cuddled up in bed together, and maybe Shirley has missed this more than she realised. Theo squirms a bit, getting more comfortable, and mumbles something that Shirley doesn’t quite catch over the credits music of the romcom they were watching. She hums questioningly to get Theo to repeat herself.

“Love you,” Theo says, half asleep at the feeling of her sister petting her hair. Shirley smiles down at her, a tear deep inside her heart mending at the words.

“Love you too, Theo. Completely.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm feather-aesthetic on tumblr, come yell at me or follow for more fics, I publish on there before I do on here so if you like my stuff you'll get it faster on that hellsite


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